


Mommy Issues

by terminallybored



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove is Trying, M/M, Post S3, Pre-Relationship, School Dances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terminallybored/pseuds/terminallybored
Summary: Steve and Billy have a philosophical discussion that they're both way too sober to have.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	Mommy Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harringrove Week of Love- Day 4: School Dance

“Are you a Mama Bird or a Mama Bear?”

The question comes way too early in the dance when the kids are only just barely beginning to cross party lines and venture into the neutral ground that is the dance floor. Steve has only had one cup of punch and he barely spiked it because he’s trying to make the flask in his jacket pocket last. So he still feels way too sober for this brand of bullshit.

“Hargrove,” he sighs. “We’re the only people between the ages of 16 and 40 at this dance.” He doesn’t have a follow up for that. He could end it with ‘Could you not be a dick?’ but he’s honestly not sure that’s in the cards when it’s Billy. Sure, he’s trying to be ‘better’ in some vague and unidentified way, and he is here with Steve acting as emergency chaperones for the school dance since there’s a shortage of people willing to be out after dark in this town these days. He just still doesn’t do the ‘nice’ thing. Ever. So Steve just kind of leaves the sentiment hanging and hopes Billy takes something away from it.

“Please. You’re a 40-year-old woman at heart,” Billy scoffs, pulling a cigarette from the packet in the breast pocket of his white dress shirt. Which looks annoyingly good on him. He even buttoned it all the way up. Steve isn’t sure if that’s because of the formal setting or the scar on his chest, but the end result is the same. Billy Hargrove can absolutely pull off shirts with high collars and Steve has to live with that knowledge. “So. Are you a Mama Bird or a Mama Bear?”

“Dude, I don’t even know what that means,” Steve groans. “I’m not a mom at all.” Glorified babysitter who doesn’t actually get paid and spends more time fighting monsters than trying to monitor who’s watching a scrambled porn channel, sure. Mom? No way.

“I saw that dish towel over your shoulder at Byers’ place. You’re a mom.” Billy looks at his cigarette like he’s really contemplating lighting it.

“You can’t smoke in here.” Steve realizes a moment too late how that sounded, and Billy is already grinning widely. No taking that back now.

“Yes, Mama Steve,” he says, tucking the cigarette behind his ear.

Steve downs the rest of his punch. He’s kind of surprised that Billy remembers he was wearing a towel over his shoulder almost a year ago when he’d be hard-pressed to remember a single thing Billy was wearing that night, much less some accessory. But then again, he’s pretty sure he got a concussion that night too so… that probably has something to do with it.

Halfway through the night, Mike and El have ventured out onto the dance floor. They’re probably a little too warm and snuggly for Hopper’s preferences but he’s been remanded to staying home and watching The Magnificent Seven again. Steve has no doubt he’s watching the clock to get a head start on beating the traffic on that 9 pm pickup time.

Dustin and Will are huddled in the safety of the boys’ side of the gymnasium, heads together like they’re forming some kind of strategy. Except they never actually make any attempt to move or anything. Steve isn’t even sure if Dustin has permission to dance at this thing. Long-distance relationships have too many nuances and kudos to Dustin for trying one right out the gate. He’s a brave kid.

Max and Lewis are loitering by the punch bowl and every time Max makes a vague motion towards the dance floor, Lucas appears to look around and then decline. Steve pauses in his kid check to follow one of Lucas’s covert glances to where Billy is staring the kid down from across the room. Well, that’s probably something he’s gonna have to deal with because who else is going to?

Steve comes back to stand beside Billy, pulling the flask from his pocket and offering it up. “So… what does that stuff mean?” he asks, because he has to make conversation about something, and what do he and Billy even have to talk about that’s not horrifying?

Billy reluctantly pulls his eyes away from where he’s glaring at Lucas. “What?”

“Bears and birds. What was that about?”

Billy takes the flask, shakes it experimentally, and pours a large amount into his cup of punch. Steve’s hopes of even getting a mild buzz to offset the pain of this whole affair drain into Billy’s cup with too much of his stash. “Christ, Harrington, didn’t you even pass the animal chapter in biology?”

This is going great. “Pretend I slept through most of it.”

Billy rolls his eyes and takes a sip from his punch. Then he empties the flask into it entirely before handing it back to Steve. “You some kind of superhero or something?”

“Sorry?” Steve tucks the empty flask back away, making a mental note to never try and share with Billy again.

“No parents, no sleeping, chasing monsters with a fucking bat…”

“I’ve got parents.”

Billy takes a longer sip from his punch and sighs out through his nose. “You’ve got landlords. That’s what you’ve got.”

Steve takes a breath. Counts to five. Reminds himself that dealt with a Russian interrogator for longer than he’s dealt with Billy so far, and if that didn’t kill him then neither will this. And he only has to deal with him for another 90 minutes.

“What’s the difference between a Mama Bird and a Mama Bear?” he asks again.

Billy looks him up and down, and for a second, Steve thinks he’s going to refuse. Make some snide comment and put them right back at the place they’ve been stuck for weeks and months now, with Billy hovering around the edges of Steve’s life while trying to re-integrate himself with Max. Seems like if anything, he’s at least realized that Max is something good in his life and that he’s a little short on good things so he should probably hold onto that.

“It’s like… a mama bear is gonna protect her kid, right? Baby bears are all cute and hikers think they can just go pet it because it’s friendly and then the mom shows up and rips them apart,” Billy says. Steve is sure he notices that Max grabs Lucas’s hand and drags him onto the dance floor, but he doesn’t comment on it, and that’s some growth right there.

“That’s horrifying,” Steve says in a conversational tone that implies he understands and Billy should continue.

“Where the mama bird straight up shoves her kids out of the nest so they’ll learn to fly.”

“That’s… also horrifying,” Steve says, in a new tone that implies that… that’s horrifying. “Mama birds are assholes.”

“You gotta show the kids the door sometime, or they’ll sit in the nest forever and eventually starve when winter comes,” Billy says, like that somehow makes it less terrible. Send a kid plummeting towards the ground to teach them to leave home? Nest. Whatever.

“Well, I wanna be the bear then.”

Billy looks him over, a look on his face that Steve can’t for the life of him decipher. “Yeah. You are a Mama Bear, aren’t you? You chase all the monsters away.”

Steve shrugs. “I mean, I’m not gonna leave that up to Dustin. Have you ever seen him swing anything? That kid is a goalie at best.” And not a great goalie either. Passable, but he’s definitely not someone you trust with hitting anything.

“What happens when the monsters come and Mama Steve left for college?” Billy presses.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steve has a stack of college rejection letters that speak to that, but Billy doesn’t need to know that. But he’s also stopped applying because one, he’s not smart enough to get in. Obviously. And two, seriously, none of these kids can get any power behind a swing. Someone with a decent batting average has to be around. “You talk like you’d rather throw a kid off a ledge and hope for the best.”

“Yeah, because that’s how you find out if they’re gonna make it,” Billy says, taking another swig from his punch.

Steve doesn’t think that’s remotely true. Billy is no bird, even if he’d like to be. He did a lot of damage overstepping every boundary ever while he was trying to keep an eye on Max, and maybe he’s scared of doing it again. Maybe. They don’t exactly talk about stuff like fear and emotions. Or much of anything unless they’re really bored and forced to make conversation because they’re stuck around a bunch of kids. Conversations like this feel like poking the surface of a lake with a stick and trying to guess where the deep parts are.

Steve kind of wants to ask if Billy was once the baby bird in this weird National Geographic metaphor they have going. He doesn’t because he thinks he knows the answer and he also thinks that Billy will probably take a swing at him if he pokes. They’re not there yet, and Steve hasn’t figured out if they’re heading there or not.

“Well I know they’re gonna make it,” Steve says, taking Billy's cup of punch and draining it because he really needs at least a bare-bones burn down the back of his throat to finish this conversation. “Because I’m gonna be here.”

Billy eyes him, but he doesn’t argue. Eventually, he just scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. But I’m kicking all of these brats out of Hawkins when they go to college. We’re not staying in this hick monster town forever.”

Now _that_ is a level of Mama Bird that Steve can work with. “Deal.”


End file.
